Softly Into the Dark Night
by Satine89
Summary: There Will Be Blood fic. Eli Sunday was never normal. Not when he started the Church of the Third Revelation, not when he met Daniel Plainview, and certainly not afterwards. WA Branching Out Challenge entry. Borderline T-M rating.


_**Softly Into the Dark Night**_

Eli Sunday wasn't normal.

They'd been saying it about him for years and Eli had always been accustomed to the chatter in Little Boston. From the time he could walk he'd had his nose buried in a Bible, his thoughts straying towards the heavens, his manner as chaste and holy as even the most devout cardinal. Eli had never dreamed of straying from that life, ever. Even when his brother Paul ran off, Eli didn't question the Lord's providence, though the rest of his family did otherwise.

At least, not in public, he didn't.

Eli was thinking of his brother at this moment in time. Paul Sunday, a disgrace. Eli quickly muttered some words under his breath. The doctrine of the Church of the Third Revelation, the fire within him, gave Eli some insight into what Paul's eventual fate would be. A trickle of sweat ran down his pale face as he stared at the wall, too lost in thought to look elsewhere. Not everyone could have salvation. There was nothing to be done about God's will. Eli would just have to accept that he couldn't convince everyone to be saved. That wasn't his concern at the moment.

Paul troubled Eli, troubled him far more than anything he'd ever encountered before in his life. There was that girl in the cotton dress, that beautiful, fiery wraith of a woman who'd tried to tempt him away from his destined life; she became only as troublesome as cigarette smoke after a few hours of prayer and meditation. Then there was the issue of building his Church of the Third Revelation – what if the townsfolk ran him out? In the middle of the desert, he'd have nowhere to go, nothing to live off of… but his faith prevailed. God would provide, and provide he did – support, lumber, and a congregation basically fell into Eli's thin lap.

But then there was Paul. Paul was his younger brother, someone who meant a great deal to him. Eli's brown hair, slicked with sweat, lay limply on his cheeks. In an effort to busy his mind with mundane things, Eli fixed his hair. A false sense of happiness invaded his thoughts, soon replaced by his previous melancholy.

So much for getting his mind off of Paul, the immoral louse. Eli's thinking had led to many conclusions, but only one had remained steady in his mind: Paul would never be welcomed back in town, not after what he'd done to that girl. Did he ever think of how much pain he'd caused her, a girl of barely seventeen? Eli had the feeling that he felt guiltier about the act than Paul himself did.

Eli's eyes gazed hungrily at the crucifix affixed to the oaken wall just opposite him. It was the only thing in the room he'd bought with actual money; the rest was inherited and made by hand – the Bible on his pine nightstand, the hand-stitched blankets made by his mother that served as a bed, his father's wax candles, they were all things he'd grown up with.

Eli tried not to let Paul invade his thoughts again. He failed miserably. Who knew what Paul was doing at that moment? Eli shook thinking about the immorality possible.

"He rejected the Blood," Eli told himself in a low whisper, his voice surprisingly airy for a man barely twenty years old. "You can't be saved if you reject it…"

If Paul came back and asked to be baptized, Eli wouldn't hesitate to grant his request. Forgiveness, at that impasse, would be a moot point. But Paul wasn't coming back, as far as –

_"We're hunting for quail."_

Everything echoed in the wooden house on the Sunday ranch, including that stranger's voice. Eli wiped the sweat from his brow, kneeling towards the crucifix before exiting his barren room quickly.

His mother, a thin, reedy woman, was looking curiously out the window, the piece of cloth tied around her heart-shaped face loosening as she moved back and forth on the balls of her feet. Eli's sister Mary, a tiny blonde, had already wandered outside to get a closer look at the one – no, two, there was a child out there – two strangers. Eli gazed out the window, a bit lost for words. He couldn't see the source of the voice.

"Mother…" Eli began.

"I don't know who it is," his mother said in a low voice.

Eli leaned against the window frame, his lanky body edging past his mother. He rested an elbow against the window-frame, his head sticking out of it slightly.

Now he could see the man plainly. He looked older – maybe forty or so; it was also possible that he, like Eli's father Abel, was fifty. His hair was dark, like his moustache, and at his side was a boy with dirty blonde hair about Mary's age, seven or eight. Eli felt his stomach grow queasy, but didn't pull his eyes away from the visitors. They were speaking to Abel about innocuous things – staying for the night as they hunted, setting up camp. There was just something about the man's appearance. His voice was rough, sandpapery, and not altogether trustworthy, but his eyes were so dull that no emotion could be seen within them. His clothes indicated some amount of wealth, as did his choice in hobbies, but his humble attitude was out of sync with the appearance. Then again, the humble attitude didn't match the greed in his voice, and nothing matched his gray, lifeless eyes.

Eli looked to the ground, then back over his shoulder. A quick glance about the house told him that the other two females in the household were exiting. His stomach still quaking oddly, Eli followed them stiffly, running his fingers through his hair. For some odd reason, he felt like looking his best for the quail-hunting duo.

Eli was barely outside when, amidst protestations, Abel ordered him to get firewood. The religious man barely had time to look at the visitors before he was off again, running to get some firewood. No introduction, no anything.

So much for being special.

Eli sighed, wandering about the brush and the weeds, searching for the few usable twigs of wood available in the dry, arid desert around him. As soon as Eli was out of sight, he kicked at a tumbleweed, hoping it would yield some wood. Nothing. Eli glanced back at the family grouping. The odd pair of visitors was wandering towards the north to set up some sort of camp. The hot sun tried to obscure Eli's vision, but he stared at the pair's retreating backs for as long as was possible, transfixed. There was something about them, there really was…

The uneasiness returned. Eli began to think of the man's eyes as he gathered some thick twigs which had fallen from a gnarled tree not too far away. He was hiding something behind them; what it was, Eli had no way of knowing, but it made him nervous. A bundle of twigs manifested itself in the crook of Eli's arm as he pondered.

Maybe the two were religious, but not of the Church. That would be cause for fear, Eli reasoned, especially since Eli himself wasn't very enthusiastic about religions other than his own. If they'd run into other townsmen, they might've already been accosted.

The issue of the hour, Paul, had long since disappeared from Eli's mind. The older visitor wasn't your typical Little Boston inhabitant, from his manner of dress to his sophisticated way of talking. His rough voice betrayed the words he spoke, which betrayed the lack of feeling in his eyes, which betrayed –

Eli dropped a large branch on his foot. He'd gathered so much firewood that it was spilling out from under his elbow, scattering on the sand and smashing weeds. Eli shook his head quickly.

_I don't think I've ever been that lost in thought before._

* * *

_"Hello, I have the firewood."_

_A blank stare from the grown man's side. "You're… Eli Sunday!"_

_Eli could hardly believe that Abel had introduced him. Maybe after he'd left. __The older man stuck out his hand for Eli to shake._

_"Daniel Plainview," he said._

_Daniel Plainview._

Eli watched him curiously as he, his son H.W. (for that was what Daniel had called him a bit after their meeting), and the rest of his family sat down to eat – potatoes, some assorted vegetables, and a little bit of meat. Eli picked at the food, more intent on figuring out why his stomach tied into furious knots when he looked into Daniel's soulless eyes. With one concealed hand, Eli fingered the cross necklace that hung limply over his chest beneath his plain shirt. A tiny swell of calm washed over his head, but his hands were sweaty and numb, not to mention the unceasing churning of his stomach.

The smalltalk was endless. Eli usually avoided it when guests were over. None of his talk was small, but big and boisterous. Conversation wasn't a great skill of his, but oratory definitely was. Things about how the quail were plentiful, and that the weather was remarkably stable for it being just after an earthquake floated in the air over the table, hanging for a few seconds before a new thought smashed into the stagnating one and shattered it, the pieces lingering upon the silverware for a few seconds before they disappeared, unfulfilled and forgotten by the occupants of the table.

One such shattering thought slammed into a fairly mild conversation about the lack of water in Little Boston.

"What would you say is a fair price for this lot, Abel?" Daniel asked. The words had an edge to them, like he'd been dying to say them since he first came to the Sunday ranch. Eli's stomach began to roil manically – he understood why now. The eyes were not lifeless, but hungry.

Eli had made an effort not to look too closely at Daniel Plainview during the supper, but at this he had to not only look, but glare at his table-mate. The preacher had it all pieced together before anyone else had opened their mouth.

"But… what? Why?"

Daniel rattled off something about the quail being plentiful, or something. The conversation became muted to Eli, the only thing he could hear being his blood pounding. Talk of money came up inevitably, and surging blood kept Eli from hearing anything else.

"Now what do you say is a fair price?" Daniel asked Abel.

The old man (fool that he was, Eli realized sharply; he was never good with money or thinking) thought for a second. "…Five dollars an acre."

"Six," Eli immediately interjected.

Daniel and Eli's eyes met. Eli felt as if he was being stripped bare before the man, but he had nothing to hide. He was a shepherd, only interested in the well-being of his flock. As it stood, Abel was a part of that flock. Eli didn't look away, though a few impulses told him to do it. If Eli kept driving up the price, maybe Daniel would back off.

"Six. Thank you, Eli," Daniel nodded, and turned back to Abel.

Eli sat in shock for a little bit. So Eli had played to him, then. There were more ways to stall such a deal, he told himself quickly.

"And with the improvements I've made at five hundred –" Abel began before Daniel cut him off.

"I'll offer to buy the ranch for thirty-seven hundred dollars," Daniel said flatly, as if offering an ultimatum. His tone changed to one of slight condescension as he added, "that's three thousand and seven hundred dollars."

Eli tuned out the grandiose explanations of how such a lease would work, knowing full well what Daniel was after.

Seems Paul and Daniel were not two issues, but a single, very complex one.

"Does this seem fair to you?" Daniel inquired with a faint smile playing across his face. Abel seemed ready to burst with happiness, but Eli chose this moment to act.

"What about the oil?" Eli questioned pointedly.

Daniel looked at him again, this time taken aback. Eli smiled internally. The upper hand was his.

"What?" Daniel responded.

"And what are you going to do about the oil here?" Eli reiterated, stealing Daniel's patronizing tone.

Daniel feigned ignorance, but the shock had tipped Eli off – that was his reason for appearing, his reason for coming to the Sunday ranch, the reason for everything that had transpired at the table.

"We have oil. That's worth something," Eli noted, his voice fluttering a bit.

"Do you have someone who can drill for it?" Daniel asked coldly.

Eli paused. Admitting defeat while he had Daniel in a corner wasn't his idea of a good strategy.

"Do you think there's oil here?" Daniel inquired, misunderstanding the pause.

"I know there is," Eli retorted, calm as ever.

"It's very expensive to drill," Daniel lectured, "to get it up out of the ground. Have you ever tried that before?"

"How much is it?" Eli pressed.

"…costly," Daniel muttered before trying to turn back to Abel. Eli wasn't finished yet.

"What would you give us for that?" Eli demanded to know.

"I don't know," Daniel responded.

"_Something you don't know!_" Eli hissed, gripping his necklace so tightly that an imprint was forming on his palm.

"What would you _like_, Eli?" Daniel said back, venom dripping from every word.

Eli loosened his grip on the crucifix, and a wan smile played on his lips. "I'd like you to share the mineral rights with the Church." This greedy man couldn't possibly belong to a church, Eli reasoned, not with the hard desire for material embedded into his merciless eyes. "You're sharing with us the farming rights, why not the mineral rights as well?"

The two stared at each other. Eli's stomach was calming, but his chest was beginning to weaken, for whatever reason.

"If we decide to drill for oil… if the well produces…" Daniel appeared to be thinking it out as he went along. "I'll give your church a five-thousand dollar signing bonus –"

"That's not enough," Eli countered indifferently.

"Do you want to find someone else who's going to come up here and drill, Eli?" Daniel's voice was trembling with anger, the kind of anger that only came from having to explain oneself to a lower man. "Make the investment and do all the work that goes into it? I can hunt for quail on another ranch just as easily as I can here!"

Eli wasn't aware that the conversation still involved quail-hunting, and with one simple point, he was felled.

Eli glared at him as the battle's treaty was procured. His chest grew weaker as Abel walked right into the door Daniel had opened. His lip quivered and, just to busy himself, Eli ate a bit of potato. His tongue rejected it, but he swallowed anyway.

* * *

"Why were you so angry, Eli?"

Eli bit his lip. Ruth always did care. Ruth was his sister, about thirteen and with a maturity level beyond that of any girl her age, with the darker hair of her father and the heart-shaped face of her mother. He turned to her, away from the crucifix on his bedroom wall.

"Angry?" Eli repeated blankly. He was trying to forget about Daniel Plainview, about his invasive eyes... "Why would you say that?"

"You and Mr. Plainview… there was something there," Ruth noted.

Eli sighed. "I have been praying about that."

"Oh good," Ruth said with a brief sigh of relief. "I was worried that maybe you'd lost your mind."

Eli watched her retreat from his doorframe, and quickly buried his face in his palms again. He was caught in an internal battle. On one hand, he couldn't stand the egotism and the greed that seemed to drive his every act. But on another hand, there was something magnetic about the egotism, and the drive that came from the greed.

Eli didn't know what it was, just that it didn't bode well for the future.

* * *

"Now my brothers!" Eli called, pounding his fist against the makeshift pulpit in the makeshift Church of the Third Revelation. "I would love to tell you that we could all be redeemed – that God will redeem us all – but the sad truth is, _we cannot all be saved!_ There are those who will remain in perpetual darkness, because of their actions, _because of their unrepentant hearts!_ One _cannot_ be saved if they…"

"Reject the blood!" the congregation echoed back to Eli. He grinned, stepping away from the pulpit. This was his home, and everyone around him needed – nay, deserved – to hear his divine wisdom.

"Right, my brothers and sisters," Eli continued. "Our community as of late has been rocked by some truly _spectacular_ developments… but the Holy Spirit calls to me; it tells me the truths behind these occurrences, and tells me that this can only lead to one route and _one route only_!

"The loss of Brother Paul is being overlooked by _you_, the congregation, the blessed ones who will be saved, in favor of the material and the greedy nature of the Devil!"

A gasp erupted from the corner of the room; the young, pregnant Jennifer Rookwood. Eli ignored it.

"But when the Devil tempts the good citizens of the world, he doesn't space out his attacks for _the convenience of his victims_! No, he _relishes_ in tormenting our souls, tearing at our minds until he can label us as damned, _until he has control over our every mental function_!

"And here it has happened again! The Holy Spirit, with its divine wisdom and power, has entered into me, and last night, I was sitting upon the ground, my chest heaving, my head reeling from the fear and the torment it showed me, oil coating the battleground that this town will become, like the blood of soldiers in the fields of Belgium, massacred by the foul agents of the Devil – and _we will be massacred_, my brothers and sisters, my mothers and fathers, my children yearning for their promised land amidst the waste! The human soul, with its fallibility, is destined, _without strong faith_, to be blown over by this never-ending deluge of sin and vice!

"As soon as we let the oil and the prosperity overwhelm us, _we will have given into sin and Satan's power_," Eli almost breathed, the perspiration pouring down his cheeks and slicking his hair to his face. His voice was growing quieter, but more intensified with every word and every beat. "_The Spirit has shown me what we will become if we give into temptation. We must stay one step ahead of the oilmen… we must work with them, but we musn't __**become**__ one of them."_

As the congregation erupted, Eli sank into a chair, his smile trembling. He was already one step ahead of the oilmen, and one step ahead of Daniel Plainview, he who had so devastatingly rejected his proposal to bless the oil wells.

The wells were working, and working at tremendous efficiency, something that Eli could care less about. It wasn't about the oil. It was about Daniel Plainview. Something within Eli drove him to grab his attention and smash his face in, figuratively speaking, getting the upper hand in the strange and enveloping rivalry that had seized hold of Eli's every waking thought. Eli had never had a rivalry. The flushed face that came from seeing Daniel, the manic passion that seized his gut whenever he thought of the oilman and his toxic visions…Quite the unusual emotion, this feeling of rivalry.

But what happened to the anger?

As Eli stood up to read the closing antiphon from the Bible, the thought hit him like a sledgehammer to his skull. Eli already had enough sweat coating his brow, so the few extra beads went unnoticed by the churchgoers. Seemingly unabated, Eli read, with passion.

"And the Bible says to us, as we leave to spread the word of the Third Church, from Revelations: _Worthy is the lamb, who__ was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise_. Indeed, the Christ is worthy of our praise, for he died for us, and if we reject his blood, and his love, we will surely suffer in this life…and the next."

The congregation solemnly responded with a loud, ringing "Amen" before a thoughtful wave of Eli's hand sent them standing. Eli closed the Bible, and, as per usual, stood by the door to shake his followers' hands as they left, leaving their words of kindness. At one time, Daniel Plainview had visited the Church of the Third Revelation, something that both revolted Eli and made him feel the need to appear amazing in his eyes. Eli vaguely understood why at this moment.

"Excellent sermon," one old woman nodded to Eli.

Eli smiled back at her. "Thank you, Mrs. Lyman."

There was some sort of feeling bubbling in Eli's chest. It was what he'd felt the first moment he saw Daniel Plainview… and, stupid, stupid him for not realizing it in an instant! No wonder Daniel became the issue of the moment… or was he more than an issue?

"Thank you, Eli," a man told him as he clasped the preacher's hand.

"You're welcome, sir," Eli responded with a smile.

These thoughts were stupid, Eli told himself firmly as people swirled by him. God wouldn't throw something so ridiculous into his lap. It wasn't a bad thing, far as Eli knew. It wasn't a good thing either, though. The very idea was a ball of absurdity – who had ever heard of a man loving another man?

Eli mentally froze as the last parishioner left his site. Slowly, he closed the door, took to the front pew, sat down in it, and pressed his clasped hands to his face.

"No."

Eli's voice was barely a whisper. He was pleading with the Spirit within him, begging for a different challenge. The Spirit responded by yanking his heart up his throat.

"No," Eli repeated again. "No, no, no, this is not happening…"

Eli shook his head, sweat pouring down the bridge of his nose. He stared up at the wall of his church, where the wooden crucifix, made of twigs, loomed over him.

"…This is happening, isn't it?" Eli asked both the cross and the Spirit.

They seemed to nod, and within him a wave of dread crashed into his suspended heart. He shuttered in response.

"Well… it is not love like _that_," Eli told himself. "I love him as a brother. Yes, the way I love my congregation, and my father, and _I shouldn't even love him because he's violent and crazy._"

Eli's mouth twitched as his heart flew across his ribcage. It was moving around quite a bit, and the feeling wasn't altogether pleasant. Eli stuck his head upon his knees.

He'd said it this afternoon, said it himself: the Devil didn't choose when to tempt humans based on their desires. If that was true, God didn't test his loyal prophets on Earth based on their desires, either. But Eli didn't know if it was a test, a temptation, a sin, or a blessing. He didn't even know what he was thinking, falling in –

"I am not in love with him," Eli whispered harshly to no one in particular.

For the first time in his life, he wasn't convinced.

* * *

Eli was dripping with oil.

His mother just stared at his soiled visage, wondering how he could have possibly gotten so filthy with something so valuable to the town. In all honesty, Eli didn't really remember what had happened, just that he was mad.

"You really got attacked by Mr. Plainview?" Eli's mother questioned as Eli sat down at a chair near the table. The black gold dripped steadily into Eli's soaking lap. His new suit was definitely destroyed. This didn't bother him very much.

It was Daniel Plainview. Yet again. A month or so had passed since Eli's semi-epiphany, and, despite his furious attempts to persuade himself otherwise, his heart had remained in constant discord with his brain. Eli had read the Bible cover to cover three times in that month, trying to find where it told him if loving another man was sinful or not. His mind was in such a fog that he still couldn't come up with a specific book, much less a verse. He'd begun to meditate on the issue for hours at a time, but the Spirit hadn't spoken to him since that day in the Church of the Third Revelation, and no amount of prayer could change that.

Eli thought he would go see Daniel Plainview about the money he owed to the Church – any excuse to see the man and try to piece together the tangled puzzle – and to express his concern about the accident that befell his son, H.W. The accidental destruction of the oil well had robbed H.W. of his hearing, and Little Boston of one of its primary income sources. There were more wells being built, to be sure, but that had been the symbolic first well.

The symbolism wasn't working too well for Daniel.

No sooner had Eli barely approached Daniel that the oilman threw him into a pool of oil languishing nearby. Eli recalled that he spat some of it out before hearing Daniel scream at him about healing his son.

Eli tried to spit something other than oil out of his mouth, but Daniel cut him off with a furious slap to the face. Eli tumbled back into the pool of oil, but Daniel just kept coming, beating him, repeating the healing part. Eli could do nothing but scream – but, mingled with his pain was utter humiliation and…happiness?

Half the time Eli didn't even know what his brain was doing. It was a recurring problem nowadays.

"He did," Eli responded, listless, to his mother. He didn't add the part about Daniel standing atop him, yanking his hair and screaming at the top of his lungs. The visual would probably kill the woman. Forget about mentioning how badly he wanted to be back in that pit of sludge.

"Abel is so, so _stupid_," Eli hissed.

"Eli," his mother said warningly. "How was he to -?"

"Daniel Plainview is a menace," Eli spat out, some oil falling onto the wooden table.

_Indeed, a menace,_ Eli thought vindictively. _A menace of the worst kind…_

_Why didn't you hold me there longer, Daniel Plainview? Why didn't you drown me?_

_And why do I want to be back in that filthy pit?_

Eli sat at that table for hours, motionless.

* * *

Laughter rang inside Eli's room, jubilant and airy.

The Spirit had finally come back.

It was about time, too – after sitting at that dinner table, pondering his desire for Daniel Plainview, not moving, he attacked his father at dinner, collapsed from weakness, spent at least four hours a day trying to make sense of it all, and was on the verge of doubting even his faith.

But tonight, everything was changing. For the first time in weeks, he was shaking, feverish, and inspired. The Spirit was back – it was _back_, back within him! Eli clutched his sides and fell, knees first, towards the crucifix. It seemed to be bathing him in a light unlike anything he'd ever seen before, and he finally understood what had to be done.

There was only one tract of land Daniel Plainview needed to make his rumored pipeline to the coast. The tract belonged to the deeply religious Mr. Bandy, and Daniel was too entrenched in sin for his taste. Bandy had made it well known amongst the community, to Eli in particular.

A grin ripped across Eli's face.

"Oh God, thank you, thank you!" Eli screamed to the crucifix. If anyone in the house was scared, they didn't let it show. The world, outside of Eli's strangely high-pitched laughter, was silent. "My Lord, I…"

The words weren't coming out.

Love? Hah! What a ridiculous notion! It was just an obsession – the fact that Eli seemed unable to save him had rendered him intrigued, an intrigue that had gone a bit too far.

Suddenly, God's test made perfect sense to Eli. Naysayers be damned, maybe Eli could figure out a way to make this work yet.

* * *

Bandy had reacted just how Eli thought he would, because, sure enough, Daniel Plainview, looking disgruntled and uncomfortable, was at the next meeting of the Church of the Third Revelation.

The sunlight was streaming, and Eli felt the soft breeze playing along his hair, feeling much lighter than he had in a long time. The congregation had a new life to it, and Eli's surroundings seemed new again. The Spirit was back, and it was burning, and there would be no more nonsense with Daniel Plainview.

Eli stood before the pulpit, collected and grinning. Daniel was pointedly avoiding his gaze. He'd caused more problems than he knew, that was all Eli could say. He spoke confidently, and, once he heard a chorus of responsorial 'Reject the blood's hit him, he knew. It was time.

"Now, is there a sinner here looking for salvation?" Eli asked plainly. "A new member…? I'll ask again – _Is there a sinner looking for God_?"

Awkwardly, Daniel stood. Eli met his eyes, and, much to his utter shock, his stomach began burbling.

_Why did he agree to do this?_

"Thank you for coming, Brother Daniel," Eli said softly, in a smooth voice. Daniel walked towards him stiffly, and a feeling of dread filled Eli's entire body.

"Thank you, Eli," Daniel said courteously as he sat down.

Eli turned to the congregation before he could have the chance to look at him. This was bad; the Spirit had led him to do this, but he was having second thoughts about his plans now…

"We have a sinner with us here who wishes for salvation!" Eli told his parishioners. "Daniel." Eli turned to the oilman. He had to look at him now. "Are you a sinner?"

"Yes," he responded.

"_The Lord __**cannot**__ hear you; say it to __**him,**__ louder! _Go ahead and speak to him, it's alright…" Eli assured the man in a voice quite uncharacteristic to him.

Daniel didn't seem to notice. "_Yes._"

"Down on your knees and up to him," Eli ordered, his voice turning rough.

Daniel went down on his knees, under Eli's approving eyes. Eli felt his head begin to pound. No, this was not good, not here…

"Look up to the sky and say it," Eli instructed.

"I don't know what to say…" Daniel admitted, his voice unchanging.

Eli's brain throbbed, but he pressed on. "Daniel… you've come here, and you've brought good and wealth, but you also have brought your bad habits as a… _backslider_." Eli paused, not looking down at the man. He was completely at his mercy, a thought that Eli quickly rid from his head. "You've _lusted after women –_"

_What about me, Daniel Plainview?_

" – and _abandoned your child_! Your child that _you_ raised, _you_ have abandoned, all because he is sick – _and you have sinned._"

_Worse than me, standing __here, pretending to not love you anymore?_

"So say it now… 'I am a sinner'," Eli said, his voice trembling with emotion. The congregation was leaning towards the preacher. "_Say it_ – say, 'I am a sinner'."

Eli couldn't keep his spit down. There was some serious emotional turmoil boiling within him, not the least of which was him realizing, with a pained jolt, that the Spirit had moved him to convert Daniel, with the intent purpose of testing his faith, yet again… or maybe continuing the test shoved in front of him.

Daniel was silent.

"_Say it! __**'I… am… a sinner'**_" Eli spat out, angrier at himself for letting his emotions get the better of him.

"I am a sinner," Daniel finally said, breathless.

"Repeat – I am sorry, Lord!"

"I am sorry, Lord…" Daniel looked a bit wary.

"I want the blood!"

"I want the blood…!"

Eli's zeal was reaching its peak – the Spirit was in him, his heart was pounding… "_I have abandoned my child_!"

"I have abandoned my child…!"

"_I will never backslide!_"

"I will never backslide!"

"_I was lost, but __**now I am found!**_

"I was lost! But now I am… found…!"

"_I __**abandoned my child**_!"

Daniel stared at Eli, his cold eyes slicing through Eli's ire. This only got Eli more riled up, as his legs began to tremble with emotion.

"_Speak to him and __**say it, **__SINNER_!" Eli shouted.

"I abandoned my child!"

Eli was on the verge of losing it, losing the composure he thought he would have in the proceedings. Love and hate and lust and pride and rivalry were mixing together in his blood, creating some fearsome expression on his face that couldn't be read.

"_Speak to him__**, SAY IT LOUDER!**_" Eli bellowed.

And he smacked him across the face. Eli, twisted and confused, let a manic grin erupt on his face before it was replaced with his earlier dull shock.

The smack seemed to spur Daniel forward. "**I HAVE ABANDONED MY CHILD! I'VE ABANDONED MY CHILD… I'VE ABANDONED MY BOY!"**

"_**Beg for the BLOOD!**_" Eli demanded of him, sweat pouring down his face and his heart threatening to explode out of his chest.

"_Give me the blood, Eli; let me get away from this!_" Daniel begged. "_Just give me the blood, Lord, and let me get away!"_

Eli heard only the first part of his plea. And his heart exploded, his brain melted, his face turned even redder, and he fully understood what had been swirling around in his head so far in his short life.

_I love him._

"_**Do you accept Jesus Christ as YOUR LORD AND SAVIOR?!"**_ Eli questioned, his voice even more impassioned now.

"_**YES!**_" Daniel screamed back, matching Eli's volume.

Eli stood up, defiant, in front of him. "_**GET OUT, DEVIL!"**_

And Eli slapped him again. Vengeance was sweet, but Eli was feeling something else… it was almost as if he was floating, and his face got redder, and that odd, ecstatic smile fell onto his features again.

Daniel reeled briefly, but Eli was ready again.

_**"OUT DEVIL!"**_

_Smack!_

_**"OUT SIN!"**_

_Smack!_ Eli would've been laughing like a schoolgirl if he wasn't before his congregation. All he wanted to do was knock it off and jump atop the confused, slighted, bruised oilman, and maybe, just maybe, make his true feelings known to the world.

_I'm in _church_! WHY AM I EVEN THINKING OF THIS RIGHT NOW?!_

"_Do you accept the Church of the Third Revelation as your spiritual guide?!"_ Eli challenged Daniel.

_"YES!"_ Daniel breathed, a bit confused. Eli slapped him again, a throbbing glee pulsing through his entire body.

_**"GET OUT OF HERE, GHOST! GET OUT OF HERE, AND GO BACK WHERE YOU BELONG!"**_ Eli bellowed, pressing his sweaty, numb palm to Daniel's head. Oh, to touch him! Eli was barely able to keep himself controlled – the Spirit was pushing him forward, telling him to rid the sin from this man, while his body pushed him as well, telling him to give into the insurmountable temptation –

_Do you accept Jesus Christ as your savior?!"_ Eli questioned with an unmatched fervor.

Daniel looked completely spent. "…Yes."

A follower ran up and doused Daniel in holy water as Eli stepped back, turning to the congregation, a smile on his face.

But inside, he had been torn apart.

_…I love him._

Later that night, in the privacy of his bedroom, he wept.

* * *

The only solution, Eli reasoned, was to get away from Daniel Plainview. He'd be able to forget about the cursed oilman if he just left. The Spirit moved him towards missionary work, after laborious weeks of begging for forgiveness for his explicitly crazed thoughts that day in the Church. The Spirit wasn't very happy with him, but even Jesus was tempted by the Devil. Eli couldn't be expected to be anywhere near Jesus' level.

As he shook hands with the loving old women of his congregation at the train stop, he noticed a man, and his stomach plummeted. Why did he feel like he was ruining what may be the only thing worth living for in his life?

The Spirit kicked him in the head, and before he knew what he was doing, Eli called to Daniel Plainview. "Hello, Daniel."

Daniel looked over the well-dressed Eli. Eli had the lingering feeling of being mentally disrobed, though that was probably just wish-fulfillment.

"Going somewhere?" Daniel wondered.

"I'm going on a mission. Oildale, Taft…" Eli thought, but no more names came to him. This was nerve-wracking. "Bakersfield… I've been invited to spread His word."

The rest of the conversation was a blur to Eli, who only remembered the parting lines, as the train whistled. Eli turned to walk away.

"I'll be sorry to see you go," Daniel said to him.

Eli paused. "I know that's not true."

His heart shattered.

"God bless you," Eli murmured before jumping on the train and finding a seat very far away from the public eye. As soon as he sat down, he buried his face in his hands.

_This was a mistake,_ he thought vehemently, choking back some tears. _Who am I kidding? I cannot forget him… For someone who hates me so much… _

_Dear Lord… what do I do now?_

His prayer went unanswered.

* * *

The years passed like flittering leaves off of a dead autumn tree. Eli's public figure had become a force to be reckoned with, one that commanded a loyal million-or-so followers through his weekly radio broadcasts, but emotionally, Eli had barely repaired himself, even after more than ten years, when his manager, a bit stressed by the amount of debt accumulating in both Eli's world and America in general, suggested that Eli take a break and go back home.

Eli stepped off the train, where his young sister Mary, who was not so young anymore, and the husband Eli only vaguely recognized greeted him with tight hugs and kind handshakes.

Mary was so overwhelmed with joy that tears were streaming down her face. She began to talk so quickly that Eli had trouble keeping up with her words.

"Eli, you're not going to believe what's been happening here – it's all so sudden, and with me and H.W. leaving in a matter of weeks, I'm so glad we saw you!" Mary squealed in her rich voice, one reminiscent of her mother's. Eli had gathered from Mary's last letter that she had passed on, like Abel. "Oh, the Lord is kind to us, Eli – the Church is thriving, and that young man who was barely a babe when you left, Trevor Sundrive? He's become a new preacher, and he's good. I'm proud, but he isn't you."

Eli grinned feebly. "I know, Mary." He nodded to Mary's husband, still smiling. "Hello, good sir."

Mary quickly turned to her husband and signed the words to him. It hit Eli like a ton of bricks.

"…You're H.W. Plainview?" Eli gaped.

_Great, this is all very great, _Eli thought bitterly, _now I'm in love with my father-in-law. _

The Spirit, growing ever stronger within him, had no response to this.

Mary also translated this as Eli rung his hand. "My Lord, I'm sorry… I wasn't… letters get destroyed, mangled…" Eli felt himself growing a bit feverish, so he calmed himself down quickly. "How are the two of you -?"

But Mary was already dragging him away. "You must see Father Sundrive, Eli, and the rest of the Church!" Eli glanced at H.W., and was suddenly thankful that H.W. was male and understood the look of sheer desperation on Eli's face.

H.W. tapped Mary on the shoulder and signed something to her. Eli felt a wave of relief flow over him – never had he appreciated the presence of a fellow male mind so much.

Mary nodded.

"Sorry… H.W. thinks you're going to want to see the Bandys and the Sundrives and the Locklands yourself…" Mary sighed, clasping Eli tight to her. "Just so you know… Mr. Bandy is dead. A lot of your favorite people are dead and gone."

"And my least favorite?" Eli said jokingly, not expecting the response that came.

"Oh, Mr. Plainview is alive," Mary muttered, "and as cold as he ever was."

Eli didn't doubt this, but merely shrugged. "The Lord works in –"

" – mysterious ways," Mary finished before hugging him again. "...Let's have dinner together."

"Let's," Eli assured her before turning away and nodding courteously to H.W. He attempted the one sign of his he'd seen before – 'thank you'. Mary laughed at his awkward attempt, but H.W. understood and grinned, a quick succession of signs following.

As Eli retreated, Mary called out to him: "H.W. tells you Godspeed, kind preacher!"

Eli couldn't help but smile. God had led him back home, but the Spirit had given him back to a family that loved him.

* * *

Eli wandered towards the Plainview mansion, a few meters away. He didn't even know why he bothered coming near it. If there had been any doubt that he was not attracted to females before this point, his recent visit to William Bandy had cleared that up. He was considerably younger than Eli but so good-looking that it almost didn't matter. William wanted to go to Hollywood, wanted to sell the land that Daniel had never had and always sought.

Eli thought this would be a good bargaining chip for, say, his love.

Eli smacked himself quickly as he neared the mansion's front door. That was ridiculous, not to mention utterly despicable and sinful. He might be sinning already, what with this Daniel Plainview matter, but he wasn't going to stoop that far.

Warily, the preacher knocked on the door. Immediately an old butler opened it. Neither man recognized the other.

"Hello -?"  
"I'd like to speak to Mr. Plainview, if you please," Eli half-requested, half-begged.

The butler looked a bit confused.

"I'm an… old friend," Eli decided on quickly. The butler merely nodded before leading Eli through magnificent oaken halls where shattered remnants of vases and other such things lay, forgotten, on the ground. Eli didn't ask… a chill was rattling up his spine, and he didn't know if it was from the creepy imagery or the thrill of finally being in Daniel's home.

He'd thought about the home many times, but the reality far surpassed the expectations. The ceilings were so high that Eli felt that one of the myriad oil wells could fit comfortably inside, tilted right-side up… Eli passed a mirror, and quickly ran his fingers through his hair to put the strays back in their place. The butler didn't seem to notice Eli's behavior, as he only looked at him when he reached Daniel's resting place. The butler retreated, and Eli almost made a noise of despairing disgust.

The room was a bowling alley with some sort of bar behind it. Eli quickly dove for the whiskey, grabbing a bottle and pouring two shots, one for him, one for Daniel. But upon closer inspection, the drunken Daniel, lying across the lanes, had his own decanter – yes, decanter; Eli wasn't delusional – of vodka in his hand. Eli set the shots on a nearby railing, and walked serenely towards Daniel.

"Daniel…" Eli called softly, a birdsong through a window. "Daniel. Daniel Plainview…"

Eli realized that this wasn't working. Biting his lip, he took a sharp breath and screamed, "_**Daniel Plainview THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE!"**_

Daniel didn't move. Eli said nothing.

He leaned a bit closer to Daniel. "Brother Daniel… it's… Eli…"

No stirring. Eli felt his heart clamp to the inside of his throat, and for some reason, leaned closer to his face…

"…yes it is," Daniel wheezed. Eli immediately leaned backwards as Daniel sat up, disheveled and not at all like Eli last saw him. There was obviously a lot going on in his mind, alcohol-fueled or not. The two sat down on little benches in the corner of the room, each with their own bench. The two shot glasses were placed on a nearby wall slightly above Eli's head. Eli had the feeling he was going to need both of them in order to keep his emotions down.

"Your home is a miracle," Eli told Daniel in an awkward attempt to break the ice. Daniel said nothing.

So Eli turned to the only thing he knew. "I've been spreading His word far and wide, you see, far and wide… even in radio!" Eli acted shocked by this revelation, when he'd been broadcasting for at least five years. To him, it wasn't that unusual anymore. "But to be here and find you and see you well is wonderful, and we have a chance to catch up!"

Eli wanted to do a little more than catch up, but that was a moot point.

"My brother Daniel… we're such old friends…"

Eli could've sworn Daniel turned a derisive laugh into a cough at the word 'friends'. He wasn't sure whether to get his hopes up or not.

"…So much time…" Eli took a drink, to drown his hopes. "Ah… things go up, things go down. At least the Lord is always around. …We've seen ups and downs, haven't -?"

"Are things down right now, Eli?" Daniel interrupted.

Eli was shocked at how on-target Daniel could be, even when drunk and haggard. The feeling of being mentally exposed returned to Eli, a bit infuriatingly. Eli was tired of this man being able to read him like a book, when he, who was so invested in his toxic love, couldn't even comprehend what Daniel was thinking. Eli was hopelessly outmatched.

The liquor was doing wonders for his optimism.

"No," Eli lied very obviously. "But I come with some sad news… perhaps you remember Mr. Bandy?"

Daniel was affirmatively silent.

"Mr. Bandy has passed on to the Lord," Eli told Daniel. He sat quietly for a short time. "He lived to be ninety-nine years old. Mr. Bandy has a grandson – have you met his grandson, William?"

Eli's brain knew what his heart had made him do milliseconds after the fact. Make Daniel Plainview jealous? Was it even possible? Eli was going to try, damn it.

"William Bandy is one of the finest members we have in the Church of the Third Revelation. He is young and fit and strong with good charismatic ability… he's headed for wonderful things. He is eager to come to Hollywood to be in movies. He's _very_ good-looking." Well _that_ was subtle. "And I do think he will have success."

"That's wonderful," Daniel said plainly. Eli's face soured slightly. He tried a sinful route; the more he'd try to get Daniel, the more he was likely to end up going to Hell. The ends wouldn't justify the means, and that was assuming the Lord didn't care that he was in love with a male.

Good thing he was a preacher.

"Would you like me to speak with him?"

Daniel stared at him confusedly. The tangent had been a bit… tangential, Eli had to admit, but he was running out of straws to grasp at. He'd have to buy Daniel's love at the rate things were going.

"Daniel, I'm asking you if you'd like to have business with the Church of the Third Revelation in developing this lease on Bandy's thousand-acre tract."

Daniel said nothing.

"I'm offering you to drill on one of the great undeveloped fields of Little Boston!" Eli gasped out. Since when was Daniel Plainview this thick?! He was drunk, though, maybe that was the –

"I'd be happy to work with you," Daniel responded genially.

Eli's face slackened in visible relief.

"But there is one condition for this work," Daniel alerted the preacher.

Eli couldn't help but get his hopes up. A dangling sentence like that – Eli leaned forward, hoping for the best, thinking maybe, just maybe, the two of them were on the same wavelength…

"Alright," Eli breathed.

"I'd like you to tell me you are a false prophet," Daniel said.

Eli stared at him, half of his brain still caught in anticipation mode. The other half was trying to make head or tail of what Daniel had just requested.

"I'd like you to tell me that you are, and have been, a false prophet, and that… God is a superstition," Daniel carelessly said, as if he was making it up as he went along.

Eli finally comprehended. "But that's a lie."

Daniel stared pleadingly at him, and Eli felt his heart breaking with every second spent under those emotionless eyes. He was at a loss.

"…It's a lie, I cannot say it," Eli pressed.

There was a silence too devastating to detail here.

"When can we begin to drill?" Eli asked, trying to move the meeting along.

"Right away," Daniel responded quickly.

"How long will it take to bring in the well?"

"Should be very quick."

"…I'd like a one hundred thousand dollar signing bonus, plus the five that is owed me. With interest."

"That's only fair."

Eli bit his lip. Well, he'd lied to people before. Mostly about Daniel Plainview. His heart, crumbling with every passing second, willed him forward.

"…I am a false prophet and God is a superstition," Eli said emotionlessly. "If that's what you believe, then I will say it."

"Say it like you mean it," Daniel pushed gently.

Eli eyed him with an expression of the utmost horror. "Daniel –"

"Come on," Daniel cut him off.

Eli sighed and started again. "I am a false prophet and God is a –"

"Say it like it's your sermon," Daniel offered.

Eli's eyes widened even more so. "This is foolishness –"

"It's your _sermon_," Daniel countered.

Eli took another deep breath. He was going to need some therapy after this. "I am a false prophet, and God is a superstition."

"The people in the back can't hear you!" Daniel yelled at him, gesturing to an imaginary populace just beyond the bowling alley's walls. The pins leaned closer to Eli, demanding his compliance, if was ever to achieve the happiness he wanted. A tear glittered in his open eyes.

"_I am a false prophet, God is a superstition!"_ Eli shouted before turning back to Daniel. "Is that-?!"

"Those areas have already been drilled," Daniel told him matter-of-factly.

Eli's jaw dropped. This wasn't going in a good way. "…_what?_"

"Those areas have been drilled," Daniel reiterated.

Eli shook his head, hardly believing it. That was one of the last straws scattered upon his table, and the idea was ridiculous anyway, just like this stupid infatuation that kept him up at night, hot and bothered and fearful!

"No they haven't!" Eli defiantly told him.

"It's called drainage," Daniel explained as if he was talking to a two year old. "I own everything around it, so I get everything underneath it."

"But there are no derricks there," Eli tried to tell him. Daniel had either lost his mind or won the battle. "This is the Bandy tract. Do you understand?"

Eli was on the verge of tears. He shouldn't have come. He could be eating with Mary and H.W., pretending to be chaste and normal, but no, he had to fall in love with this callous, uncaring monster of a man who was losing his mind with every second.

But Eli paused. He was blaming himself for falling in love. It wasn't like he'd messed with Daniel and left, like his filthy pervert of a brother. The situation could still be salvaged.

Then Daniel spoke.

"Do _you?_ I drink your water, Eli," Daniel pressed forward, on his own path. "I drink it up. Every day! I drink the blood of the lamb from Bandy's tract."

Eli downed the last of the first glass of whiskey before collapsing into a chair, so confused and frustrated and heartbroken that he just began to sob freely. He made no effort to curb it; why should he? Daniel should see what he'd done to him, the once proud son of the hills.

"Daniel, _please_…" Eli begged, unseen walls closing in on him. "I'm in desperate times… I need a friend, I feel walls closing in…" Eli needed more than a friend, and as soon as he thought that, words came tumbling out of his mouth, words he never intended on saying. "I've sinned, I need _help, Daniel, I'm a SINNER…_" Eli cried harder than he'd ever cried in his life. Daniel was a sin. Now he felt even more distraught. "_I've let the Devil grab hold of me in ways that I never imagined, Daniel! I'm so full of __**sin**_…"

"The Lord challenges us sometimes, doesn't he?" Daniel asked.

It didn't take a genius to detect the mocking in Daniel's voice. Eli glared at him, trying to convey how he felt with nothing more than his eyes. "Oh yes he does, yes _**he does… **__He's completely __**failed**__ to alert me to the recent panic in our economy… and to __**this**_" Eli didn't define what 'this' was. All he needed was for Daniel to recognize 'this', to stare in shock or agree or whatnot, it just needed to be _aired_; the matter had taken an importance akin to life or death. "_I must have __**this**__… I must have… _I've… I've invested my… investments, oh Daniel, I won't bore you, but – but – _if I could grab the Lord's hand for help, __I would, but _HE DOES THESE THINGS, ALL THE TIME,_ THESE MYSTERIES HE PRESENTS WHILE WE WAIT!_ Eli cut off, his mind swimming with images and thoughts and possible things to say next. "…while we wait for His word…"

Eli stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the Spirit to tell him what to do next. It said nothing.

"You're not the chosen brother, Eli."

Eli's shot Daniel a look of pure hatred, daring him to say it again.

"It was Paul who was chosen," Daniel continued. "He found me and told me about the land. You're a fraud."

Eli had tuned out half of what was said. The first words were still ringing in his ears.

"Are you…?" Eli's tears began anew again. "Why are you talking about Paul?!" A surge of hot jealousy ruptured in Eli's veins. "Don't say – DON'T SAY THIS TO ME, DANIEL!"

"I did what your brother couldn't!" Daniel spat. "I broke you and I beat you! It was Paul who told me about you, he's the smart one, he's the one – _**STOP CRYING YOU SNIVELLING ASS!"**_

Daniel smacked Eli, sending him sprawling to the ground. Eli could only look up in fear at the one he loved, scrambling to get back to his feet, but even now his stubborn heart held out for some inkling of what had happened that day in the oil fields.

"_You're just the younger brother! And you'll always be the younger brother, Eli, and that land has been had!_" Daniel screamed as Eli got back on his feet, against his will. "_**You have NOTHING, you IDIOT, you LOSE!**_"

Eli calmed himself down a bit, enough to try and salvage the conversation. "If you take this lease on the B-Bandy lot, the Church –"

"_**DRAINAGE, ELI, DRAINAGE!**_" Daniel shouted loud enough to send the preacher back to his liquor. As Eli drained yet another glass, Dainel continued: "_**DRAINED DRY!**__ If you have a milkshake, and I have a milkshake – "_

Eli watched in horror, setting the glass down precariously, as Daniel walked a few feet away from him.

_"And I have a straw, my straw reaches __**acrossssss**_ –" Daniel trotted over to a spot directly in front of Eli, his finger acting as this straw. Eli's brain was so splintered that he would likely explode if anything else happened.

_" – the room, and starts to drink your milkshake!_" Daniel finished with a bang. Eli flinched. "_**I DRINK YOUR MILKSHAKE! I DRINK IT UP!"**_

Daniel made an odd slurping sound. Eli gripped the end of the bench so hard his knuckles turned white, and began to cry anew. Why that grotesque noise threw him over the edge, Eli wasn't sure.

"_**STOP IT! STOP IT PLEASE!**_" Eli screeched, slipping out from under Daniel and walking towards the lanes. _**"MY FAITH IS LOST, AND I NEED A NEW WAY, I NEED -!"**_

_"I took what I wanted when you weren't looking!"_ Daniel called back to him, taking a bowling ball in his arms. Eli gripped the side of his head in an effort to steady his drowning mind.

_**"THE BLOOD OF THE LAMB IS IN MY POCKET, ELI! DO YOU THINK GOD IS GOING TO BALANCE YOUR INVESTMENTS, YOU STUPID BOY?! GOD DOESN'T SAVE IDIOTS, ELI! YOU'RE BROKE AND LAME AND DONE FOR!"**_

Daniel chucked the bowling ball at Eli. Eli screamed, a high-pitched, heartrending sound, and jumped out of the way in barely enough time. It would've crushed his leg if he hadn't moved – the man had lost his mind! Eli tried once more to spit it out, if he didn't now he'd be killed -

"_**I'M NOT DONE FOR, I NEED A FRIEND, PLEASE – DANIEL, PLEASE, I NEED -!"**_

Daniel grabbed the other bowling ball from its place, and Eli began to run again, this time for the door at the other side. He frantically tried to loose it open, but the door was locked.

_**"DID YOU THINK THAT YOUR SONG AND DANCE AND SUPERSTITION WOULD SAVE YOU?!"**_

The bowling ball hit the wall inches from Eli's head. He screamed again, realizing that he was trapped behind the mechanized lanes. He broke down, screaming and sobbing and hysterically speaking.

_**"PLEASE, DANIEL, LISTEN TO ME, YOU'RE MY FRIEND, MY OLD FRIEND, I CAN'T PRETEND ANYMORE -!"**_

_**"I'M SMARTER THAN YOU!" **_Daniel roared. _**"I'M SMARTER AND OLDER AND WISER, AND I'M NOT A FALSE PROPHET! YOU'RE DONE FOR!"**_

_**"DANIEL -!"**_

Daniel picked up one of the bowling pins and chucked it at the wall. Eli ducked, sprawled on the ground, staring at the three-inch dent in the wall above his head. He would've screamed, but Daniel had grabbed his leg and thrown him out into the open, another bowling pin in hand.

Eli felt the tears on his face, his neck, just about everywhere. This was what his love brought him? He just needed to spit it out; his romantic delusions would save him.

"_**DANIEL, I -!"**_ But now Daniel had him by the hair, and the only possible reaction was pained, tortured screaming. Eli was flung down, and he tried desperately to crawl away.

_"Why did you come to my home?!"_ Daniel yelled, the pin above his head.

Eli moved towards him. _**"I -!!"**_

_Smash!_

Daniel slammed the pin into side of Eli's head. He fell to the ground with a rough thud, his eyes flickering through the river of blood forming on his face.

His thoughts strayed. _I still have time. I can fix this, I can -!_

_SMASH!_

Eli's barely moving body fell downward again. The lights were growing dim around him, and his mouth wouldn't spit out anything but blood, something growing in abundance on his body.

_If I had told him, this wouldn't be happening, _Eli thought.

"_…Dan…iel…"_

_**SMASH!**_

The final blow.

Eli didn't have time to muse on how badly it'd turned out, on how he'd never see any of his relatives again, on how the Lord's test had overwhelmed him far too much.

His last words were lost, dissolving in the pool of blood pouring out of his caved-in head. His eyes had closed long before.

His last thoughts were a bit more interesting than his failed words.

_…How can I still love him, after all this? He's murdered me, and all I can think is that if I tell him I love him, everything will be better! Well guess what? Life isn't that easy, Eli Sunday._

_Because you aren't normal._

((fin))

A/N: First things first – this is an entry for the Writers Anonymous Branching Out Challenge, but had the contest not come up, I would've posted it anyway. For those familiar with the movie, I mixed in lines deleted from filming as well as lines only in the film to make certain scenes a bit more powerful and such.

A/N 2: Since I know this story is bound to get me into trouble: I took a hypothesis about why Eli Sunday came back to Daniel at the end of the movie – because he was in love with him – and tried to create a character study around it. I'm Christian myself, but open-minded to the plights of others. I'm neither homophobic nor against religion; I'm also not completely uber-religious. For me, it was all about Eli and his suffering, not about exploiting either aspect of his (somewhat fictionalized) character. If you're going to review just to say 'eeew eli's gay you suck', check your pea-sized intellect at the door. If you have legitimate concrit for the story, by all means, give it to me. This is a highly experimental fic, one that I'm proud of, and any help for my future writing is appreciated.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own _There Will Be Blood_. I'm waiting patiently for the DVD… April 8th, everyone…


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